What makes a mycelium decide that it is time to produce fruitbodies? Is it when conditions are good for spore production and distribution, or are fungi more like desert orchids, producing potential offspring (seeds in the case of orchids and spores in the case of fungi) when the parent is stressed and at risk of dying? We may guess at the answer, but we will never really know. Anyway, what brought this thought to mind was the paucity of Parasol Mushrooms this summer and autumn... until in early November, when I came across several in perfect condition and obviously coping well with weather quite different from what would be 'normal' in their traditional fruiting season.
Oops! There I go, falling in to the trap of using the word 'normal' in the same sentence as 'weather'. What I should have said is 'in the days when patterns of British weather bore at least some resemblance to normality'. Climate Change (Climate Chaos, as I prefer to call it) has abolished all norms. Where I wandered, at least, the early November weather seems to have suited August-fruiting fungi rather better than August did.
What is special about Parasol Mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera) apart from their undeniable gracefulness is their perfect fit in a frying pan. I won't go in to recipes here - I'm saving that topic for my new book about fungi, which is at last entering the home straight towards completion - but these really are Pizza-on-a-Stick pickable if you enjoy eating wild mushrooms.
The genus name Lepiota simply means scaly, while the specific epithet procera, meaning tall, is self-explanatory when applied to these stately parasols. Found in grassland, Parasol Mushrooms have a strange habit of springing up on roadside verges on the most dangerous of bends, diverting drivers' attention from the road at critical times. Unfortunately, fungi are very good at accumulating heavy metals and other toxins, and so it is best to avoid eating Parasol Mushrooms (or other edible fungi) from roadside verges. Golf course margins, parkland and dune slacks are better places to try - the latter, warmed by the sea air, often proving to be fertile fungi foray territory well in to winter when inland sites have been thoroughly frosted off. Food for thought...
Oops! There I go, falling in to the trap of using the word 'normal' in the same sentence as 'weather'. What I should have said is 'in the days when patterns of British weather bore at least some resemblance to normality'. Climate Change (Climate Chaos, as I prefer to call it) has abolished all norms. Where I wandered, at least, the early November weather seems to have suited August-fruiting fungi rather better than August did.
What is special about Parasol Mushrooms (Macrolepiota procera) apart from their undeniable gracefulness is their perfect fit in a frying pan. I won't go in to recipes here - I'm saving that topic for my new book about fungi, which is at last entering the home straight towards completion - but these really are Pizza-on-a-Stick pickable if you enjoy eating wild mushrooms.
The genus name Lepiota simply means scaly, while the specific epithet procera, meaning tall, is self-explanatory when applied to these stately parasols. Found in grassland, Parasol Mushrooms have a strange habit of springing up on roadside verges on the most dangerous of bends, diverting drivers' attention from the road at critical times. Unfortunately, fungi are very good at accumulating heavy metals and other toxins, and so it is best to avoid eating Parasol Mushrooms (or other edible fungi) from roadside verges. Golf course margins, parkland and dune slacks are better places to try - the latter, warmed by the sea air, often proving to be fertile fungi foray territory well in to winter when inland sites have been thoroughly frosted off. Food for thought...
